Endless Possibility
by R2s Muse
Summary: It is 9:66 Dragon, and 60-year-old Cullen and Marian enjoy a day of relative peace to celebrate the marriage of their son and reflect on their life. Sequel to *Knight's Bloom* and *Catch a Dragon by the Toe*. A drabble inspired by the 30 Days of Dragon Age prompt: If your favorite character is alive at the age of 60, what are they doing?


_**Endless Possibility**_

_**By R2s Muse**_

___Disclaimer: The Dragon Age setting and its characters belong to Bioware. I'm just borrowing! ___

**A/N: An exploration of Cullen at age 60 from my Knight's Bloom series, which is an AU where Viscountess Marian Hawke and Knight-Commander Cullen eventually fled Kirkwall to start a new life in Ferelden. In this little vignette, their son, Malcolm, has followed in their footsteps, becoming the next Hero of Thedas and marries his lifelong partner. Since I'll probably never write Malcolm's continuing adventures, it was fun to think about his happily ever after. Sequel to _Knight's Bloom_ and _Catch a Dragon by the Toe_.**

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><p><em>Brecilian Forest, Ferelden<em>  
><em>9:66 Dragon<em>

Cullen waited patiently while Marian adjusted the fit of his formal tunic for the millionth time, tugging and smoothing invisible wrinkles and his already-straight collar.

"There," she said, relaxing only slightly. "See, it still fits fine after all these years. You look so handsome. The distinguished father of the groom." Despite her words, her hands strayed back to smoothing the dark red fabric across his broad shoulders, revealing that she was mostly trying to reassure herself.

At the age of sixty, Cullen prided himself on remaining fit, his stomach still flat, his sword arm still strong. But even if his waist wasn't as trim as it had been in his thirties, he wasn't concerned. Old soldiers rarely had the chance to live a life as full and satisfying as his. He wore his extra inches with the pride of a life well lived. So he let Marian continue her fussing so she could keep her hands busy and her nerves in check instead of worrying about all the other things that could go wrong on this day of their son's marriage.

It was when her hands turned to her own appearance that he finally had to step in. She smoothed her upswept hair, the dark brown now threaded through with silver, and patted the perfectly arranged twist at the back of her neck until she was in danger of mussing it herself. He took her hands in his, kissing the inside of one palm to focus her attention.

"You look beautiful," he said, kissing the other palm as well for good measure. "Today will be perfect."

"It better be," she grumbled, but at least she stopped fussing. "After I turned down a ceremony at the palace in Denerim, Malcolm will never forgive me if something goes wrong here today." The Fereldan rulers had offered to hold a grand state affair in order to honor the couple's heroism in the recent crisis, but Marian thought a more modest affair in their home village would be better. And she hated being wrong.

"Of course he would forgive you," Cullen said reassuringly. "But nothing will go wrong. With you to answer to, my love, nothing would dare."

She laughed and started to smooth the front of her dark blue dress, its mode a little outdated but still classic and fitting her curvy figure like a glove. She had worn something similar the first time he had kissed her, and he liked to remind her of this whenever she wore it. Today, the proud mother of a grown son and daughter, she still could turn heads in his opinion.

He took one of her hands in his and laced their fingers together. "Stop fidgeting," he whispered in her ear. "Here they come."

Her head immediately snapped toward the entrance of their home at the edge of the central square, just as the musicians started to play. Their cottage was strewn with garlands of flowers, as was the rest of the cobbled central square where the entire village had turned out to celebrate with the couple.

Stepping out onto the broad veranda surrounding the house was the most singularly beautiful person Cullen would ever see in his whole long life. Earth, as they called him, using the nickname Malcolm had assigned him as a child, had grown from an indescribably beautiful child into an almost preternaturally handsome man. Tall, broad shouldered and yet slim, Earth moved with the grace of a woodland creature. His long golden hair fell straight to the middle of his back and framed delicate features that made poets and artists across Thedas weep to describe their perfection. Although in his thirties now, Earth's ethereal beauty still made him look much younger, at least until you looked into his ancient golden eyes that had seen far more than his years.

Earth looked out at the crowd in the square and smiled somewhat shyly, still unaccustomed to crowds even after becoming a national hero. His eyes lit up when he was joined a moment later by Malcolm, who smiled happily at him, nearly incandescent with joy.

Cullen and Marian's precociously magical toddler with unruly red-gold curls had turned into a striking young man of 28 with wavy, shoulder-length hair and too serious eyes. The weight of Malcolm's responsibilities during the crisis had taken its toll on their good-natured son, mentally and physically. He held a tall staff in his hand made of smooth, seasoned wood with a small gold dragon perched on top, and leaned heavily on it as he limped to the stairs leading down to the cobblestones of the square. The limp was still healing, but Malcolm would have it for the rest of his life. Regardless, the way Earth watched him, eyes glowing with love and appreciation, it was clear none of that mattered to him. He took Malcolm's free hand and they walked down the steps to Malcolm's sister, Elleni, who waited for them with a bouquet of Fereldan wild roses in her hand.

Two years Malcolm's junior, Elleni had Marian's darker coloring and volatile temperament, and now used her skills in the diplomatic service of the Queen of Ferelden. Elleni hugged both men warmly and then proceeded them down the path that had been cleared through the crowd to the center of the square.

This was the most crowded Cullen had ever seen their town. A far cry from being secret any longer, their remote forest village had significantly grown and now entertained the rulers of Ferelden, Orlais, and Starkhaven, formerly mythical enchanters appearing in a flash of light as if stepping out of legend, along with the local Dalish, who some considered equally mythical. More exciting for Marian and Cullen was the attendance of some of their dearest and oldest friends from around the world.

Now a local magistrate in far off Kirkwall, Varric stood with his thumbs hooked in his belt, beaming at the couple like they were his own children. Nearby, Isabela was resplendent in scarlet leather and a jaunty captain's hat with a large feather. As per usual, Fenris was found not far from her side. Prince Sebastian had gotten too thin since they'd last seen him, and stood with his plump wife and their eldest son, who had been breaking hearts across the Free Marches.

Aveline stood near the dais in the center of the square watching the proceedings with a vigilant eye, the bun into which she had pulled her gray hair making her look even more severe than normal. At her side, Donnic smiled benevolently at the approaching couple, while their ginger-haired son stood as close to Merrill's doe-eyed daughter as he could without drawing the ire of Merrill's husband, Leon.

Standing beside her husband, Merrill wore a flower crown upon her head similar to the one she had woven for Marian all those years ago. The night that Cullen had married Marian Hawke completely without fanfare in that tiny coastal Chantry before they had slipped into obscurity to start their life fresh. Who knew that their attempt at normal life would have led to even more legendary adventures for their gifted son and his soon-to-be husband?

Marian's hand slipped into the crook of Cullen's arm, and he placed his hand over hers as Earth and Malcolm drew near them on their way toward the dais. Luckily Earth was there to lead Malcolm's steps, since their son couldn't stop looking at Earth as they walked. They each wore a version of Merrill's crown made with more wild roses and, of course, slightly modified by Earth's special brand of magic. The crowns twisted and undulated, their flowers still living and blooming.

The couple stopped before Cullen and Marian, smiling. Cullen nodded at each of them proudly. "May you find the happiness and contentment in your life together that your mother and I have had," he said in blessing, his voice sounding gruffer than normal. Marian's lips trembled with emotion and so she only embraced them each before they turned and continued toward Earth's mother.

Morrigan's golden eyes shone brightly with unshed tears to which she would never admit. She inclined her head at each of the men, and only said, "My sons." Then she straightened, holding her head up high, and smiled proudly at them, the closest she had yet come to appearing motherly.

A few steps later, they neared King Alistair, who stood with his wife, the Hero of Ferelden, whose signature blond braids were twisted up at the nape of her neck. The rulers merely nodded their heads at the happy couple. Few knew of the King's connection to the newly anointed hero, but Alistair had insisted on attending. Normally uncomfortable around his biological father, Earth smiled at the man, letting nothing dim his enjoyment of the day.

The couple proceeded up to the dais amid the expectant hush that had fallen over the square.

"Well, well, what have we here?" said the stately woman with silver hair standing on the dais in an earth-hued gown. She still hadn't aged a day since Cullen had first met her over twenty years ago.

"Grandmother," Earth simply.

"Urthemiel," Flemeth replied and turned to the other man. "Malcolm." Natural human warmth momentarily shone from her face, and she looked genuinely pleased before she looked out at the crowd, turning enigmatic once more.

"Blessings on this couple and on all who join us today to witness their union and share in their joy. Theirs has been a long road, beset by challenges, joy, sorrow, triumph and regret, but they have overcome and emerged the stronger." She looked down at the men. "The better. The happier."

Earth and Malcolm shared an amused glance, and Earth slightly shrugged one shoulder.

"Destiny comes for us all," Flemeth said, her voice carrying easily to the edges of the crowd even though she spoke normally. "But there is no power in this world that can decide your fate. You hold it in your hands. Urthemiel, Malcolm, in your two hands, you have always held your own. Now you pledge to shape your fate together."

"Why does she always have to sound like this?" Cullen whispered to Marian. But, the former Champion of Kirkwall, former shaker of world, just elbowed in him the ribs and mouthed _shush_.

"As you move forth in this world, see your endless possibility," Flemeth continued. "Embrace dream and idea. Hope and Fear."

Flemeth smiled a droll, secret little smile, like that of an inside joke, and paraphrased from the Chant, saying, "And what you two have created, together, no one can tear asunder."

_**Fin**_


End file.
